


An Element of Blank

by Maleyah (Katherine_Kat)



Series: The Disrepair 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cramps, Difficult heat, Fluff, M/M, Mal wrote a thing, Omega Dean Winchester, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23913517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine_Kat/pseuds/Maleyah
Summary: The voice comes through warbled, but already so deeply familiar, Castiel’s response is pure instinct.“Cas, honey, make room for me.”It pulls him from the velvety depths of sleep and Dean bodily drapes himself over him, snuffling in his neck. Castiel’s smile forms like poured honey, mind slow on the uptake, though his heart beats faster.“Always, babe,” he slurs.Or: The one where Dean suffers a tremendously painful heat and Castiel helps him through.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: The Disrepair 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853482
Comments: 25
Kudos: 335





	An Element of Blank

The voice comes through warbled, but already so deeply familiar, Castiel’s response is pure instinct.

“Cas, honey, make room for me.”

It pulls him from the velvety depths of sleep and Dean bodily drapes himself over him, snuffling in his neck. Castiel’s smile forms like poured honey, mind slow on the uptake, though his heart beats faster.

“Always, babe,” he slurs.

There’s that hesitance in Dean again, every time Castiel speaks in ‘forever’ terms. For all Dean’s brazenness when it comes to the physical, the depth of their bond seems to freak him out.

His arms open and, after a moment’s hesitation, Dean slots to him perfectly. Every time Dean does this – and he does it a lot, this random, abrupt flopping on top of Castiel, preferably when he least expects it – the angle doesn’t matter. Somehow Castiel’s body is made to accommodate a Dean-shaped space at all times. He learned that the day they met.

In all fairness, it compensates for whenever Castiel crowds Dean’s personal space, simply because he can, regardless of location and company. Dean seems to love him for it, which for an Alpha his age, is more than he ever could have wished for.

The scent of Dean’s soap invades his senses. Dean didn’t dry off decently, which seems to be a thing for his Omega. His hair is still more than damp and his back wet when he squirms around until it is pressed flush to Castiel’s chest.

Castiel buries his nose in the short hair at the back of his neck, resisting the urge to lick the dampness off of him. Nuzzling closer, he seeks out the most sensitive square inch spot on the side of his neck. Dean shivers, baring himself to Castiel without restraint.

That’s when the full bouquet of Dean’s true scent bleeds through.

His mate’s scent, even though they aren’t mated yet.

On instinct, Castiel pulls him closer greedily, crossing his arms over Dean’s chest. He closes his eyes as he lets Dean’s fragrance paint pictures in his mind, bringing countless memories in their wake, even though it’s only been a few months.

A cold, blue-skied winter’s day, think late January. When you breathe in, it stings a little, but you smile nonetheless, because you feel alive.

A fresh, warm apple pie, cooling on the window sill. A sweetening spring breeze of cherry blossoms blows the fragrance into the house.

The color green has an olfactory equivalent that he can’t capture in words, which is entirely down to Dean’s eyes. Sprinkled with the scent of his endless freckles and the champagne-color of his hair.

Castiel scrunches up his nose, when his fragrant heaven is fouled by something twisted and acidic. His heart rate spikes and his eyes fly open, the light assaulting his sensitive eyes as his pupils blow wide.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

A soft groan is his only reply, but the shudder that courses through Dean’s body, releasing the slick scent that makes him salivate, tells him enough. Except topsy-turvy.

Arousal. Pain. Not the good kind. Agony.

Lowering his hands to Dean’s abdomen, he flattens his palms, covering as much skin with his warmth as he can. Dean whimpers softly, snaking his hand to the back of Castiel’s neck. They’ve been waiting for it to hit. Dean’s heats tend to be unpredictable. Which, if Castiel has to guess, is the reason why Dean was still ‘up for grabs’, so to speak.

When they first met, it didn’t make sense. Even though he knew, when he knocked on Dean’s door, it made no sense. Someone who looks and smells like Dean being unmated, let alone unclaimed. It made even less sense once Castiel talked to him, learned of his quick wit, deft hands, sharp tongue and twinkling eyes. And yet…

He has never been so sure of anything in his life.

Or so nervous.

Hiding his face in the pillow, Dean trembles while he bites back a moan, reluctant to let Castiel know how bad it is.

“There’s no point hiding it, little one,” he murmurs. “I can sense your pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

They’re still getting used to each other. Hell, Dean has his own room, though he doesn’t reside there often. The fact that it exists provides a barrier. An out.

“And there’s no need to apologize for your pain either.”

“Cas…” Dean groans, face contorting in distress, and he tries to pull his legs up so he’s in fetus position, but he is shaking too hard. “It hurts so much…”

Castiel’s insides twist empathically, his gut churning at being unable to take away his pain. “Do you want your hot water bottle?”

Dean shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. Biting back another sob, he turns on his back, throwing his legs over Cas’, hooking them behind his knees. He’s strong, Cas thinks, as he moves with the urgent, mute request of Dean’s body.

“Too warm… I’m too warm already and it’s hot outside. I can’t –“ He pants. “I can’t handle that heat on my skin… Shower didn’t help. Every time... Mmmh, fuck, Cas, make it stop.”

Pulling Dean into the space he holds for him, Castiel wraps one arm around his shoulder and tucks him under his chin, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you take a painkiller?”

Dean nods. Those tend to be hit and miss. Castiel keeps his other hand low on Dean’s abdomen, willing his own temperature to rise. Not such a difficult feat with Dean in his arms.

Dean’s grabbing at every part of him, frustrated in his own body, until his hands land on either side of Castiel’s face. His thumb traces his lower lip, the other fingers along his jawline.

“Will you kiss me?”

His green eyes are soft like grass after the rain hit in spring. His smile wet and sweet, much like his skin, in that mind-melting kind of way. Castiel nods, because how can he refuse? Even if he doubts that will help alleviate the pain.

Castiel props himself up on his elbow, so he can lean over Dean, delighting the soft whimper that gets him. As soon as he kisses him, Dean’s lips part on a sigh. He’s greedy, his mate. Castiel smiles before claiming his mouth in a slow, warm kiss, dipping his tongue in to taste him.

Some of the acidity in Dean’s scent lets up, like a breeze blows through the room and under the sheets. Dean’s arms come around his shoulders. He hums into the kiss, his fingers carding through the hair in the back of Castiel’s neck.

“Mmhmore…”

“What more?” Castiel mumbles.

His eyes slightly clouded over, Dean stretches under his hands, a wordless request, and one all too easily given into. He’s meticulous about keeping one hand, warm and wide, where it belongs, but gives himself permission to wander otherwise.

He nips at Dean’s ear lobe, kissing a path down the long column of his neck, his focus on keeping Dean distracted, warm and satisfied. With the flat of his tongue, he seeks out his pulse. The dub to every lub comes slow and leisurely, echoing in his ears and drawing him under into a pool of Dean’s essence.

Castiel is lost to the planes and edges of him. Lips, tongue, fingers skimming over golden, sweaty skin when Dean moves under and pulls at him, soft sounds floating in the air. He delights when Dean stills and he goes slack under the ministrations with a tangible sigh. Stealing a glance, he finds his beautiful face relaxed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He may as well be asleep if it wasn’t for the little noises. Dean’s voice is deep, almost melodic in his hummed appreciation, shards of words and slivers of sounds, filling the space between them.

Castiel leisurely skims his hand everywhere, fingertips counting ribs, in search of dimples and scars, tongue counting freckles.

“Cas,” Dean whispers, arching his back.

His scent drifts from one plane of emotion to another, blending with his own, and dragging Castiel with him. Even if he wants to, resistance is impossible. He’s swept up on that current into a riptide, all the while so acutely aware of his focus. To ease his mate’s pain. To unwind him.

“Ahh… I can feel that,” Dean hums.

He can hear the smile in Dean’s voice, smell the seductiveness of his slow-building desire in his scent. Knowing he can elicit this response has his Alpha puffing out its chest, a deep rumble reverberating, and Castiel smiles in turn, too wide for his kisses to fully land. Dean’s echoing laugh drifts over softly, traveling down his spine, and it’s so good to sense the tension ease up.

“I can feel _that_ too.”

Cupping his hands together, he exhales hotly against Dean’s abdomen, pushing his rumbles along with it into Dean’s skin. “And how does it feel?”

“Oh, jeezes, fuck, Cas,” Dean groans in a decidedly non-pained timbre.

The vibrations jolt Dean back into moving, his hands suddenly in Castiel’s hair, while his legs come up and around, resting on his back, in a crystal-clear request. Castiel pretends not to understand, though he’s sure Dean can pick up on his Alpha’s need, his urge to give his Omega exactly what he wants. Anything he wants.

Dipping into the softness of his stomach, he anoints Dean’s damp skin with more wet, audible kisses. Nudging his nose in to elicit more responses, he flicks his tongue out to leave moist patches where he can breathe out hotly. Dean’s toes dig into his back, when his legs fall wider and his dick presses against Castiel’s chest. When Dean tilts his hips, slow and languid, a waft of fresh slick trickles out of him. The scent almost has him surrendering, but Castiel loves being wrapped in Dean’s desire.

Overwhelmingly tangible, clinging like thick, fresh honey to the back of his throat, he tries to hold the air in his lungs longer than he should, until his head spins. He adores this feeling of keeping his Alpha on the edge that has his blood pumping through his veins, all his senses heightened.

“Cas, please,” Dean mutters, twisting his hair in his fingers. “I can smell how much you want to…”

He pants, gaze drawn down to Dean’s hard cock, and flicks his tongue over the slit, dipping in quickly.

“I do,” he rumbles, pulling a sweet ‘yes’ from Dean. “But I don’t want to trigger your cramps. You seem to be doing better.”

A rough movement on Dean’s part jostles him and his legs feel heavier on Castiel’s back. He pushes up on one hand to find Dean’s arm dramatically covering his face.

“Yes, but now I’m horny.”

“Very true and might I add you smell delightful when you are.”

“Cas…”

Dean glowers at him and his dimples stand out, but in that fond kind of way that releases butterflies in Castiel’s chest.

“Allow me,” he rumbles on a crooked smile.

He draws a trail over the underside of Dean’s dick with his nose, both hands now on Dean’s abdomen. Dean’s legs tremble and fall wide around him, the balls of his feet finding an intimate purchase on his flanks.

Nosing at his tight balls, he mouths at them, exhaling hotly, before dipping lower. Saliva pools under his tongue, Dean’s scent enough to make him believe he can taste him. His dreams run wild sometimes to a time before Dean.

But he’s here now.

Castiel teases Dean with a first lick, groaning softly at the taste that explodes on his tongue. One of Dean’s hands finds its way into his hair, ginger in its touch, carding through the strands. He eats him out at a languid pace, relishing how Dean turns to goo and he slowly but steadily gets coated in his slick.

Dean’s moans escape him in rapid bursts and he tries to squirm out of reach, pulling a low growl from him. His orgasm is close. He can feel it in the shivers running through him and the sweetening of his scent, practically begging Castiel to sink into him.

Abandoning the moist, delicious warmth of Dean, Castiel surges up and takes him into his mouth.

“Cas, no, I’m gonna…”

He hums in agreement, because, _yes_ , Dean is going to. Exactly where he wants him to. He cradles his balls, sucking his cheeks hollow. He swirls his tongue around the tip of Dean’s cock, closing his eyes, though he’d like to see, but the flavor of him… He works his throat, taking Dean deeper in one, two, three more times, delighting when his Omega loses control and fucks into his mouth. The rippling sensation on his tongue warns him a split second before Dean’s coming down his mouth. His fingers twist in his hair in earnest, legs locked around him, as his voice pitches higher in surrender.

He swallows as much as he can, some of the semen and saliva frothing at the corner of his mouth. Dean lets out sweet huffs and sounds, the death grip on his hair letting up, when he starts petting him. He jerks a few times when Castiel teases him.

“Too… Ahh! Too sensitive!”

Chuckling deeply, he kisses the inside of Dean’s thigh and relinquishes his hold on him. “How are you feeling?”

He’s trying not to be smug about it, but… Well, some of his Alpha instincts are what they are and Dean looks all too sated.

“Ohhh, fuck me,” he groans. Dean tugs at his hair and shoulders haphazardly. “Up, damnit, I want cuddles. And you need…”

“Cuddles,” Castiel says, while he obliges.

“But…”

He opens his arms, wiggling his fingers impatiently. Dean searches his face, then lets his gaze track shamelessly to his groin, where his dick is still at attention. “You didn’t…”

“No.”

“Then…”

“That will go down.”

“But…”

For the briefest moment, his vision flashes red and Dean’s spark golden in return, his attention fully on Castiel. Again he wiggles his fingers, this time raising his eyebrow for good measure. He figured out Dean’s sensitive to that energy, enjoying it immensely, so he uses it sparingly and mainly to protect his mate from himself.

“Cuddles?” he asks meaningfully.

Dean weighs his options, studying Castiel’s face as if he’s an ancient language he has yet to figure out. This happens often enough too, though he believes more often when he’s not aware of it. He relaxes under Dean’s intensely searching gaze, one hand dropping to his own stomach, the other to Dean’s thigh.

His breathing intensifies for a few quick, nervous breaths, but then he’s all over Castiel, slotting perfectly into his space. He peppers kisses onto Castiel’s neck, laughing sweetly, and when he throws the sheets over them, his happy scent billows into it, encasing them as it mingles with Castiel’s.

“I feel better,” he whispers. “Thank you, honey.”

“Any time, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a random scene that wouldn't leave me alone. In the back of my head, I already have a bigger story about how exactly they meet. So it'll turn into a small series, when I get that written. Until then this smutty little fluffy thing will do.
> 
> Beta-read by the lovely Xlailanix.
> 
> Come join fellow SPN/Destiel weirdo aficionados on [the Profound Bond Discord server](https://discord.gg/profoundbond)! Demons of a feather flock together <3
> 
> Thanks for being here! Feel free to drop me some love, whichever way you feel like. *HUGS*
> 
> Love,  
> Mal


End file.
